Harry Potter's Speaking Disability
by Who Died of Ennui
Summary: A strange weird tale of things which I'm not quite sure of... Chapter 2 finally up! Please R&R (and... this is a PARODY).
1. Harry Potter's Speaking Disability

Harry Potter's Speaking Disability  
  
Author's note: This is the ennui-induced product of a disordered mind. It contains a mass of intentionally blatant misuse of language. Beware.  
  
Also, Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me. I am just doing what is called "thinking beyond the book".  
  
And I apologize for starting the story with dialogue. I know one is not supposed to do that.  
  
"I feel so much empathy for Harry," sighed Hermione Britishly.  
  
"Yes, and I, too, voluptuous Hermione," said Ron.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
They were sitting by the lake, thinking about their strong-and-silent friend, Harry Potter, and, since they were both so very good with words, they were discussing his lack of strength in that area.  
  
"I think he may have some sort of infantile attention disorder," spake Hermione suddenly.  
  
"Well, yes, for he acts so very bituminous all the time," replied Ron cleverly.  
  
They continued to discuss this in such a manner for an indefinite amount of time.  
  
Then, Cho Chang, the beautiful and heavily made-up school coquette, wobbled over to them. "'Ey, 'ave you seen 'Arry?" she said, carelessly having lost her H's somewhere over by the broom cupboard on the second floor.  
  
"No, demimondaine," said Hermione grandly, "we have not seen him."  
  
"We were just conversing about him, though," said Ron.  
  
"Why, 'ow lovely!" said Cho. She turned and spontaneously jumped in the lake.  
  
"But..." began Hermione, but she was stopped by the sight of Professor Severus Snape, who billowed alarmingly across the lawn towards them.  
  
"Run!" said Ron. He and Hermione also turned and jumped into the lake.  
  
Snape came up to where they had been standing only moments before. Looking puzzled, he went into a heel-clicking rendition of Riverdance, eventually tearing his robes open in the front, a la Michael Flatley.  
  
After he had finished this, he was joined by Voldemort, who was after Harry again.  
  
"Ah, what's new with ye, Voldie?" questioned Snape, in a rustic Irish accent. "Eh, nothin' much, Snapie ol' chum," replied Voldemort in an American accent.  
  
Suddenly, there was a loud fanfare of flutes. Snape and Voldemort turned, and there, standing on the tip of a tall tree, was Dumbledore, with his wand out and ready. Voldemort gasped. Dumbledore heard and, turning towards the twosome, waved pleasantly and shouted a hallo.  
  
Then, he turned to the lake, held his wand in a complicated way, and made a long, graceful dive, straight into the water. Out of the water erupted nineteen merfolk, who were dressed in pink bikinis. They and Dumbledore began a too-beautiful-for-words synchronized swimming routine.  
  
At the end of the performance, Snape and Voldemort clapped and shrieked and cheered for all they were worth. Dumbledore grinned, revealing handsome gold teeth, with the letters "Dumbleman" set into them.  
  
Dumbleman, Snape, and Voldemort began a galloping, slow-motion run, their arms open, reaching for each other... and they linked arms and began a song.  
  
Dumbleman: "So I won that diving contest,"  
  
Snape: "And I excelled in dance."  
  
Voldie: "While I sat nearby... gave moral support."  
  
All: "And all because of Harry Potter's speaking disorder-- O, what a dream! What a chance!"  
  
The End 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Yes, I have finally come back... and I have decided to attempt to create a second chapter to rival or even pass what some people crazily (and kindly) thought of as the "funny" first chapter...  
  
  
  
After finishing their song, Dumbleman, Snape, and Voldie hugged each other. Snape broke into tears.  
  
  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry, it's just that... this is such a special moment for me. I'd like to say..." He stopped. Looking at Snape's tearful face, Dumbleman carefully exuded a mixture of sympathy, caring, and love from his twinkling blue eyes.  
  
  
  
Snape screamed. "Dumbledore," he whined, "don't do that... that thing with your eyes! It scares me!" At this, partially to get away from Dumbleman's gentle gaze and partially to demonstrate his point, he cut down a handy gooseberry bush, dug a hole, and, bearing the bush, climbed into it.  
  
  
  
Voldie, in the awkward way of a young arachnid, motioned for Snape to continue. When this didn't work, he leaned towards where Snape was hiding and trembling, and yelled, "Get thee out of thy bloody hole, and take thy gooseb'rry bush with thee!"  
  
  
  
"No!" sobbed Snape, through the bush.  
  
  
  
All of a sudden, they heard a sweet voice, as clear as a pollution-free day, singing a lovely song as it came towards them.  
  
  
  
The singer came into view. She had chestnut-frosting-fish-scale curly hair, which she tossed merrily about as she pranced. Her eyes (although, naturally, it could not be seen from where they were) were deep, pine green, like algae-infested wells.  
  
  
  
Snape poked his head cautiously out of his hole. Seeing who it was, he stopped crying, jumped up, and yelled, "My dear deceased Moaning Myrtle!" She smiled at him transparently.  
  
  
  
"I'm feeling out-of-character today. I'm really quite happy!" she said. Snape smiled and rushed into her arms. Naturally, since she was a ghost, he ran through her and into a thorn tree, which caused her to giggle, each little laugh sounding like a silver bell under a cement truck.  
  
  
  
Voldemort screamed. "Snape! O, please, Snape, come away from that thorn tree!" He reached over to the tree, and gingerly peeled Snape off it.  
  
  
  
Snape smiled gratefully, pointed his thumb at the sky, and sang, "I've got a few pecks of coconut, alaiy, wing to the east, my avian beau."  
  
  
  
Dumbleman, however, was still staring at Myrtle. "I love you," he said.  
  
  
  
"No, I do!" said Voldie.  
  
  
  
"Where 'ave all the weasels gone?" said Snape.  
  
  
  
"Well," said Myrtle, "the only way you can even see me clearly is to become ghosts yourself."  
  
  
  
"Okay," said Dumbleman.  
  
  
  
"But... how?" said Voldie.  
  
  
  
Snape chewed at his toenails.  
  
  
  
"Don't you know the secret to becoming a ghost?" laughed Dumbleman. "Some evil power-hungry killer wizard you are, Voldie." Nobody said anything. "Well, then, in order to become a ghost, you have to eat three Magic Wombat Droppings and then die within the next two hours."  
  
  
  
"Well, fancy that!" exclaimed Snape, seeming quite back to his usual self. "I've got a bottle of aged Magic Wombat Droppings m'self, just in my storage room in the dungeon!"  
  
  
  
"What are we waiting for, then? Let's go!" shouted Voldie. "We'll be right back, Myrtle!"  
  
  
  
Snape, Dumbleman, and Voldie rushed off towards the castle. Fifteen minutes later, they returned, Snape bearing a small pink bottle. They stopped a bit short of where they'd been before, and each swallowed three objects from the bottle with looks of disgust.  
  
  
  
Then, Snape tripped over a rock, broke his neck, and reappeared as a ghost. He floated over to Myrtle and flexed his muscles.  
  
  
  
Dumbleman hung himself from a nearby tree, smiling blissfully. The ghosts Snape and Myrtle and the still-alive Voldie heard a loud crack as Dumbleman's neck snapped. He reappeared as a ghost and laughed, merrily, "Oo-hoo-hoo, look, everyone, I'm transparent!"  
  
  
  
Voldie was jumping up and down, like a small chihuahua which has drank too much water. Once Dumbleman had finished dying and becoming a ghost, he waved and ran away into the Forbidden Forest.  
  
  
  
"You... you don't suppose he's got us for suckers, do you?" asked Snape hesitantly.  
  
  
  
"Watch your language," replied Dumbleman sharply.  
  
  
  
"I don't see why you think that's such a..." he paused, and then smiled evilly, "such a damn bad thing to say. Or, Dum-bul-maaan, are you a sucker?"  
  
  
  
"Bad child, bad, bad child. How many times have I told you not to use those words?"  
  
  
  
Snape paused. He didn't like to disobey Dumbleman, but he was having fun, and, besides, they were both dead, so it didn't really matter. "Well, then, you can just go and fu--"  
  
  
  
"Stop it. Look. I mean, listen. Voldie's coming back," Dumbleman said flusteredly.  
  
  
  
Voldie came into the clearing where they were standing. He was riding a large spider. "This's Aragog," he said.  
  
  
  
"Damn," muttered Snape. Dumbledore slapped him.  
  
  
  
Voldie turned the spider around. Then, the two walked towards the nearest building of Hogwarts Castle. Aragog began climbing it. Dumbleman and Snape watched, Dumbleman's hand clamped over Snape's mouth.  
  
  
  
Voldie and the spider reached the top of a turret. Then, Voldie turned and jumped off.  
  
  
  
"Splat!" yelled Snape, through Dumbleman's hand. They both turned their heads away. Minutes later, Voldie, in ghost form, appeared at their side.  
  
  
  
"Ha, I've always wanted to jump off a tall building, haven't you?"  
  
  
  
Myrtle, meanwhile, was tapping her foot and looking irritated. "Come on, let's go to the lake," she said. She began gliding off in that direction. The three newly-ghostly ghosts followed her, after a moment.  
  
  
  
Aragog looked around cautiously, then went down into the castle and began crunching on something, before disappearing down a long hallway.  
  
  
  
Myrtle, Snape, Dumbleman, and Voldie floated and looped about over the surface of the water.  
  
  
  
Snape sang a song about daffodils to Myrtle. Dumbleman and Voldie, clasping hands, were laughing about the fun they'd have the next day when their lifeless bodies were found. Aragog was continuing through the castle, crunching any students or teachers he found along the way.  
  
  
  
Everything was beautiful.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Latest End 


End file.
